Holding Out Hope
by thecoleaderofgroupb
Summary: Set during the film after Thomas runs into the Maze to help Minho and Alby. While the other Gladers were prepared to expect the worst, Chuck holds out hope that they'll make it.


"Thomas NO!" Chuck yelled.

He watched in horror as Thomas squeezed through the doors before they closed him in with the Keeper of the Runners and Alby.

Gally snorted in disgust before shaking his head. "Told ya that I was gonna let him leave the next time."

"I woulda," one of Gally's cronies chimed in. "Shank's probably gonna die in a few minutes."

"But Minho's with him," Winston spoke up. "Gally, Min's the Keeper of the Runners – no one knows the Maze better than him."

"Yeah? Well take a look around," Gally snapped as he gestured to the group. "No one's survived a night in the Maze! Minho might have stood a chance if he just left Alby!"

Chuck ignored Gally's comments and dug his fingers into his palm. Thomas may have been the Greenie, but he had to make it longer than a few minutes, right? He tore his gaze from the closed doors and he looked over at the second-in-command.

Newt had sunk to his knees, color drained from his face. He rumpled his hair as he stared at the closed doors, his lips pressed tightly against each other.

"Wonder what happened to Alby," Jeff said as he adjusted the strap on his bag. "Hope he's all right."

"He looked like klunk from what I could tell," Zart murmured as he stuffed his hands in his pullover pocket. "So Newt, what do we do now?"

Newt lowered his head and sighed heavily as he messed up his hair again. Chuck walked over to Newt and leaned over. "Newt?"

Newt stood up slowly and put his hands on his hips. Chuck watched as Newt swallowed hard and faced the rest of the Gladers.

"All right shanks," Newt said, "no use standin' around waiting. Doors won't open until mornin' so… let's eat and tuck in for the night. Fry, how soon can dinner be ready?"

Frypan glanced over at the kitchen area and he gripped the sides of his apron. "I'd say 'bout 20–30 minutes tops. Stew sound good to everyone?"

The Gladers groaned and began heading back to their workstations.

"Another stew?!"

"Dude Fry, we already had stew – two nights ago!"

"Can't you make that chicken dish tonight?"

Frypan rolled his eyes before heading back to the kitchen, ignoring the comments about dinner.

Chuck looked back at the closed doors and strained his ears to see if he could hear Thomas or Minho on the other side of the doors. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see it was Newt.

"Come on Chuck," Newt said. "Can't just stand here all night, good that?"

"Good that," Chuck echoed as he began heading back to his post with the Sloppers.

Chuck had been silent since the Gladers left the doors. He finished slopping the sheep plus a few pigs. The pigs had squealed loudly when the food hit their feeders and they all began pushing and shoving to get to the feeders first. Winston had tried to lighten things up by commenting that while the pigs were being aggressive and pushy now, they would be cowering when they came to the Slicers. Yet no one laughed at that comment, while a few of the Sloppers muttered that Winston had a sick sense of humor.

Even when he got in line for dinner, he allowed the older boys to go ahead of him. Frypan shared a concerned look with Chuck before spooning an extra ladleful of stew into Chuck's bowl. Normally Chuck would have been excited about getting the extra serving but tonight, he didn't want it.

He looked around at the other Gladers, who were sitting with their respective Glade groups: Builders, Slicers, Med-jacks, etc. Except for Gally, who was sitting away from the other Builders, surrounded by a small group of his friends, probably exchanging comments about how long Thomas, Minho, and Alby would make it tonight. The rest of the Gladers were quiet, either they shoveled food into their mouths quickly or picked at their bowls. Chuck had picked at his stew until Newt sat down next to him.

"Not hungry Chuckie?" Newt asked as he pointed to Chuck's full bowl.

Chuck shook his head as he pushed the stew around with his spoon, letting lumps of meat and vegetables slop back and forth in the bowl. Newt rested a hand on Chuck's shoulder and squeezed it. Chuck looked up and stared at Newt.

"Minho knows what he's doing," Newt spoke up. "We didn't make that shank Keeper of the Runners for nothing – he's gotta know a way to evade the Grievers, eh?"

"What about Alby?" Chuck asked.

Newt bit his lip and looked back at the doors. "If he doesn't make it tomorrow morning, it was because…Min had to make some hard decisions. Not sure why he insisted on dragging Alby along like that when we were all telling him to get back in time."

"And…Thomas?" Chuck asked hopefully. He searched Newt's face for any sign that indicated that the second-in-command was hopeful for the Greenie's fate.

Newt sighed as he ran his hand down his face. "I can't tell ya about Thomas Chuckie. Hardly know the shank and yet I did think for a moment that he coulda had the chops to be a Runner…until he faceplanted."

Chuck picked up a spoonful of stew and shoved it into his mouth, chewing the contents quickly. He knew that Newt was right but he really wanted to believe that Thomas knew what he was doing – that he stood a fighting chance. True, he hardly knew the shank but it seemed like he could last a little longer than a few minutes. After all, he did figure a way out to beat Gally at wrestling, which was unheard of, given Gally's unbroken winning streak against veteran Gladers and Greenies alike.

"There ya go Chuckie," Newt spoke up when he saw Chuck eating. "Best not waste Fry's hard work – even if it looks like klunk."

"I heard that!" Frypan roared from the kitchen. "Without me, you shanks would be shucked – plain and simple!"

Newt chuckled as he polished off the rest of the stew in his bowl. "Guess we would, eh?"

"Yeah probably," Chuck mumbled.

Newt's back stiffened as he listened intently, his eyes looking to the Maze. "Hear that? Maze is changing again." He stood up and excused himself, leaving Chuck to eat by himself.

Chuck ate a few more bites before putting his spoon into the bowl and conceding defeat. All he could think about was Thomas and Minho getting through the night alive.

"What are we gonna do about Minho?" one of the other Gladers asked as they began heading for their hammocks.

One of the Runners yanked his harness off and tossed it to the ground near his hammock. "Yeah dunno Lee but if Min's dead, means we're gonna have to elect a new Keeper."

"What, you mean you right?" Lee shot back.

The Runner held his hands up and began to protest that someone else would probably get the position while Chuck tried to tune them out, turning over on his side. His stomach growled and he winced as he tried to get comfortable. Maybe he should have eaten more so he wouldn't have to deal with nerves and a half-empty stomach.

Chuck closed his eyes for a few minutes before he was jolted awake at the sound of someone yelling in the distance. He sat up and jerked his head towards the Maze doors that Minho and Thomas disappeared through.

"Who wants to bet that it was the Greenie screaming?" Gally asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Gal shut up," Winston grumbled from a few hammocks down.

"Or maybe it was Minho," Gally suggested as he sat up, looking over at Winston's hammock.

Winston sat up and lunged at Gally. Chuck sat up as he watched Winston tackle Gally from his hammock and fists began to fly.

"Hey! Win stop it!" Jeff yelled as he tried to pull the Keeper of the Slicers off.

Gally's friends tried to pull them apart too but ended up receiving bruises from Winston when they tried to intervene.

Then Chuck saw a lantern coming towards them, Newt at the other end of it. "Hey! What's going on?"

Winston continued to pound Gally, receiving a few hits from the larger boy who struck Winston in the cheek before Newt and Jeff pulled Winston off of Gally.

"This isn't the time to be fighting like babies!" Newt snapped as he looked at both of them. "Whatever the problem is, deal with it and get back to bed. Winston, I want you to move your hammock away from Gally's or you can spend a night in The Pit."

"Newt just put him in The Pit already," Gally said. "He's crazy – almost as bad as Ben!"

"You started it by betting that it was Thomas or Minho that made that noise out there," Winston spat. "And fine with me Newt – the farther I get away from him, the better. He wouldn't shut up and just sleep like the rest of us – no he's gotta turn this into a running commentary!"

"Like you're any better!" Gally shot back. "You joke about the livestock cowering in fear and –"

"Enough!" Newt yelled as he stepped between them. "Gally, shut your hole and go to sleep. Winston, change hammocks with someone – I don't care whom but do it now. The rest of you shanks get to bed now! Ya hear?"

Everyone else went back to bed while Winston swapped hammocks with the Runner closest to Chuck. Jeff led Winston over to the lantern closest to them and checked Winston for injuries before talking softly about the scuffle that had broken out. Gally gave Winston the stink eye behind his back before lying back down and turning over on his side.

Chuck closed his eyes and curled up so his knees were touching his chest. He didn't want to focus on the scream he had heard but part of him thought it sounded more like Minho. But that didn't mean – no they had to make it, had to.

He was asleep for a few hours when he thought he heard more yelling in the distance. A name was being yelled.

"THOMAS!" the voice yelled.

Chuck curled his fingers into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Maybe he was dreaming but if it wasn't a dream – could it be? He didn't dare open his eyes.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET OUT OF THERE?" the voice yelled.

Chuck gnashed his teeth together when he heard a Griever roar right after he heard the voice again.

_No_, he thought, _this is a dream – a Griever doesn't have them cornered. No, Minho knows what he's doing – if Thomas is with him they're gonna make it. They will make it. _

Then the sweet salvation of sleep began to pull him under, the last thing Chuck heard before he fell into a deep sleep was the voice screaming, "THOMAS!"

Chuck was one of the first to wake up once the sun came up. He dashed over to the kitchen, scarfed down his breakfast, and ran as fast as he could to the doors, waiting for them to open.

A few of the other Gladers milled around the area, glancing over at the doors occasionally as they started to begin their work for the day.

Then Chuck heard the doors groan, as they pulled apart. "Hey guys, look!" His heart beat a little faster as the doors slowly opened like they did every day. He peered into the dark corridor and tried to hide his disappointment when he saw no one there.

"Told ya Chuck," Newt said as he clapped a hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

Chuck hung his head and sighed. He knew it was too good to be true. He heard a few of the others mutter about the leadership.

"There's always another Greenie – The Box will probably bring another in a couple of weeks," someone murmured.

_But I don't wanna wait for another Greenie_, Chuck thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets and tried not to cry. For once, he thought he actually had…a friend. Sure everyone else in the Glade was pretty nice to him but they all had their various friendships that were so tightly knit, he stood no chance to break in.

_Guess its back to being by myself_, Chuck thought as he kicked a stone that was by his foot.

He began to head over to the area where the Sloppers worked when he saw Zart turn around and murmur, "No way."

Chuck turned and followed Zart's gaze, his eyes widening when he saw two figures coming towards them, dragging a third between them. Chuck squinted and saw it was Minho and Thomas – a bit worn but alive with Alby!

"Yes!" Chuck hooted. "Yeah!" He ran towards them as Minho and Thomas lowered Alby, calling for the Med-jacks to come assist him.

"You saw a Griever?" someone asked the pair.

Minho shook his head as he caught his breath. He looked at the group with a serious look and uttered, "He didn't just see one…he killed it."


End file.
